Doctor Puppet Who
by Blue Mistfall
Summary: In this AU story, the companions are children with very bright imagination, and the Doctors are the main heroes of their games. And the TARDIS is a school with its own secrets.
1. Here Comes Twelve

Tardis Boarding School wasn't any posh place, despite its name. Its criteria of future pupils' selection were simple: anybody could become a student, but during studying he or she was to prove his or her being worthy in any way. No one was to be a genius, though being smart was also appreciated, but "human qualities", as they were called here, were to appear in each student. That could be friendliness, sincerity, kindness, bravery - all kinds of human qualities.

But the students of Tardis Boarding School were united not only by that. Especially the youngest group, aged from six to nine (yes, children could get accepted to this school since six).

* * *

"Aaaarrrrgh! I got you!"

"No, you did not!"

"You have the special kind of weapon?"

"It's a screwdriver! Whirrrrrrrr!"

"Rose, screwdrivers don't go whirrrrrrr..."

"Oh no, Jack, you spoiled it all again!" The little blond girl in a Union Jack T-shirt pouted at the boy in a blue shirt and dark pants with suspenders.

"Don't you know that drills and blasters go whirrr, not screwdrivers?" Jack wondered with mock teasing, flopping onto the floor next to Rose and her playmate - the dark-haired boy in a red checkered shirt. "Dear me. Jo filched these pepperpots and salt-cellars from the canteen... just for you to play".

"Just because you're older, you don't have to be so mean". This was put in by the red-headed girl in a short polka-dotted dress, who was holding a wooden model of a police box. "Here, guys. Will this do?"

"Just fine, Amy!" The boy in the checkered shirt clapped his hands gleefully, and in a moment heavy steps were heard from behind the door. All the kids in the room quickly stood up, ready for anything - if this man came to their common room, something serious was to happen.

The door opened, letting the Tardis Boarding School vice-headmaster Lethbridge-Stuart in, followed by a girl with long dark hair in a red dress.

"Hello everybody", Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart (among the older students he was secretly nicknamed "Brigadier" - Johnny Benton and Mike Yates, the thirteen-year-olds who nevertheless paid visits to their groups, especially enjoyed calling him this way) greeted them, and the kids replied with simultaneous "Hello, Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart". "This is your new group mate, Clara Oswald".

Clara made up a little smile, which was returned by most of the kids. Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart left, and everybody returned to their previous activities. Luckily for Clara, she was immediately invited by Rose to their gang:

"Don't worry. We had to be reserved, because Mr. Stuart likes dis-cip-line. He's an ex-soldier... My name's Rose. These are Jack", the addressed one grinned smugly, "Amy", the redhead gave her a nod, "and Jamie". The boy in checkered shirt beamed.

Clara chuckled, not knowing with what she should begin, but then her attention was attracted by a ragdoll in Jamie's hands - no, a raggedy doll, because it was all untidy and messy and mended many times (fresh black threads were clearly seen on the rubbed grey background in the place where the doll's arm was attached to its shoulder), but nevertheless an obviously favourite property of its owner.

"This is Doctor Two", Jamie explained. "Wanna play with us?"

"What is this game?" Clara wondered, sitting down onto the soft carpet.

"We all play Doctor Who". This was said by a girl in pink striped overalls who joined their team. "I'm Sarah. Sarah Jane".

"I'm Clara. What's this game?"

"You need a figurine to play", Sarah Jane continued. "Do you have a doll or something? Maybe an action figure?"

Clara dug in her bag and produced her most important (for her at least) thing - a long and skinny puppet made out of wires and cloth describing a man with huge grey brows and thick hair of the same color sticking up.

"Will he do?"

"Yes! I think he'll be... Doctor Twelve!" Rose replied. "We play Doctor Who because you can use anything in this game. Adventures in time, space and everything!"

"But why my will be Twelve?"

"Because we have eleven Doctors already". A girl in black rock-style clothing joined them. "Call me Ace... Mine's Doctor Seven". She showed a wooden puppet in a panama hat and a waistcoat decorated with question marks. "Susan says that this is for everyone to take part".

"She thought of this game", Jamie added. "And if you don't have a doll, you can use anything else. Like these". He pointed at the pepperpots and salt-cellars scattered throughout the floor. "Jack didn't have a doll, so today he plays as an enemy".

Hardly had an hour passed when Clara was playing with all team as if she had known them for ages.

* * *

It was already two a.m. when the last kid was asleep (that was Vislor Turlough, nicknamed "Weasley" for his ginger hair by Johnny Magister - he often couldn't fall asleep properly because of his fear of nightmares). Only then there was safety for those who had a secret life.

One of the dolls, now all bunched up in a corner, turned its head and jumped up - it was a patchwork doll whose clothing was made up of all kinds of patches.

"Coast clear", it called. "Wake up, wake up!"

"How d'you like the newbie, hmm?" asked the crocheted doll describing an old man with a crooked cane, standing up. "I mean, both of them".

"This Clara seems to be quite nice", the youngest-looking doll replied - actually it was an action figure of a man in bowtie and braces and with the hugest fringe combed to the side. "At least she didn't rip you, Two, like that Johnny Magister".

All the dolls groaned, having recalled the arrival of Johnny - this boy found joy in breaking everything and creating a mischief. Most of the dolls felt twinges of pain - well, that could be pain if they were of flesh and blood - in their limbs which had suffered from that kid's hands. Especially Two, because that very fresh stitch on his shoulder was the necessary consequence of Johnny's rough play.

"Well, that's fine that she knows how to treat us", Two assumed, looking up at Clara who was smiling in her sleep. "Oh no, Four! What are you doing?"

"Don't tell me that they don't want jelly babies!" the plastic doll wrapped in the longest stripy scarf ever replied, climbing up onto Clara's bed table. "That worked when I did it for the first time, and I wanna see it again!"

The paper doll with a cloud of white hair and with a huge bow on its neck rolled its eyes and muttered:

"Four's a kind soul... Well?" This was addressed to the newbie in their company, who was curiously watching them all. "Do you like it here?"

"Of course I do. I've never been playing with kids except for Clara, because others called me ugly", Twelve replied. "But the kids here... they liked me. Pleasant".

"I know what's it like". The multi-colored doll grinned. "I was also called a parrot before having got here. Peri's a wonderful owner, but I want attention".

"Who doesn't?" the china doll all in beige and red asked, shrugging, and backed away upon the shout from above:

"Beware from above!"

Four landed onto the floor right on time not to squash Three, the paper doll.

"Fifty-three seconds. New record", the skinny and scruffy action figure in a brown suit with blue pinstripes assumed. "Hey Twelve, wanna watch their dreams?"

Twelve blinked at him with his beady eyes.

"We realized that we can do it not a long time ago", the bead doll with chin-length curls and dressed as a Victorian gentleman explained. "We gather around the kids and watch their dreams. Oh goodness! But we can do it only all together. And now, when there's a magic number of us, we can do it even better, I think".

"Nine catches all the nightmares", Six, the multi-colored doll, chuckled and was elbowed in his side by Nine, the leather doll all in black. "Okay, coming. Hope Johnny isn't dreaming about conquering the world again..."

* * *

**A/N: Who's who?**

**Brigadier - vice-headmaster (guess who's the headmaster...)**

**John Benton and Mike Yates - older students**

**Younger group:**

**Susan - owns the crocheted doll of One**

**Jamie - owns the ragdoll (or more like "raggedy doll") of Two**

**Jo - owns the paper doll of Three**

**Sarah Jane - owns the plastic doll of Four**

**Tegan - owns the china doll of Five**

**Peri - owns the patchwork doll of Six**

**Ace - owns the wooden puppet of Seven**

**Grace - owns the bead doll of Eight**

**Rose - owns the leather doll of Nine**

**Martha - owns the action figure of Ten**

**Amy - owns the action figure of Eleven**

**Clara - owns the wire-and-cloth doll of Twelve**

**The rest of the kids: Jack, Johnny Magister (guess who...), Vislor Turlough and... well, you know them all.**


	2. Nighmares and Fairy Tales

"I don't like it", Ten muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't like it at all".

There was a rumble at his right, and Five climbed up onto the pillow next to him. Ten rolled his eyes: despite the fact that Five was the most fragile doll of them all (no wonder, he was a porcelain doll!), he never lost his chances to risk his head and everything else.

"What's there?" Five asked, trying to get comfortable and safe on his newly occupied place.

Ten pointed down at the head with a ginger short-cut under them, the owner of which immediately began fidgeting so the two dolls nearly fell off the pillow.

"I got it", Five murmured, holding on the cloth under him for dear life: Vislor Turlough was tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling something very similar to "no, no, don't, will not...". "How long?"

"He woke me up about an hour ago with this", Ten answered. "Wait here, I'll wake Nine. He sees nightmares better than we do".

"Nine's already here", a familiar voice grumbled behind them. The leather doll all in black waited for the boy to stop moving restlessly, crawled over to him and put the tiny palm onto the kid's damp forehead. After some moments of reading his thoughts Nine climbed up to Ten and Five and frowned. "It's worse than I thought. Poor kid is terrified indeed".

"Vislor often has nightmares", Five reminded.

"Then we gotta end it... and I think we should show Twelve how this is done. Wake everyone up, Ten! I'm going to look a little deeper".

Shortly after, all the team was woken up, and Nine, who already finished his "scanning", began his explanations for Twelve:

"Children tend to have nightmares, and I think that it's one of our tasks to finish them. Because... you know, watching dreams is fine, but doing nothing about bad dreams is no good. Five, your turn".

"First you gotta find the core of nightmare", Four caught up. "Find the reason of it. Come on, try it".

Twelve, with a little twinge of fear in his heart of wire, touched Vislor's brow, and his head filled with visions. A huge diamond. An insanely laughing shadow... Hold on a second, what's this? There were two ginger-topped boys here. One of them was supine on the ground, surrounded by people, and the other was in a cloud over him... wait, was the second one see-through?

"Oh man, he's having his separation again". Two's voice returned Twelve to reality. "That's a hard case. We've been trying to get the core out, but with no success... Usually such dreams are caused by impressiveness. Movies and books have great influence on kids... what am I talking about, their imagination does it all for them!"

"What should I do?" Twelve asked.

"All in all, we have to calm VT down. Imagine that the core of the dream is a golf ball in a hole. And get it out", One explained. "As soon as you find the reason, it'll be easy".

"At least this night he won't moan and groan, if you do it", Eleven added.

Right then. What can the core be?.. Something which made this "separation" develop... Twelve frowned, examining the details of the dream (and this wasn't easy, because the surroundings tended to fade away when he tried to have a closer look). Not the diamond, that was not the beginning... The shadow?.. Maybe some of these people?.. Or maybe...

"That may be the tennis ball instead of golf ball", Twelve muttered, and, no knowing how he did it, took the ball out of the hole and was in the room again. Vislor stopped muttering, and his thin lips even twitched in the weakest smile.

Three quietly clapped:

"Nicely done. What did you take out?"

"Crashed car", Twelve admitted, sliding down onto the floor. "I thought that it was the beginning".

"Oh, no..." sounded Eight's groan from the right. He was sitting on the pillow of Grace Holloway, the almost only member of the youngest group who knew how to mend things properly, including human wounds. Partially almost all Two's new stitches were the result of her work.

"What's there, Eight? Is Grace dreaming about her grace-ful dream friend again?" Six asked in sugary voice. "What to say, girls, at least most of them, always dream about Prince Charming".

"And about their arch-enemies too..." Eight flopped onto Grace's pillow. "Anyone wants to participate in a fairy tale?"

"It'll need an old wise man", One interfered.

"And a hobo who helps the main character", Two shot out.

"And a quick runner!" Ten was quick in joining them.

"Welcome to pandemonium", Seven commented, watching them climbing onto Grace's pillow and joining Eight.

"And... do kids see us in their dreams when we watch them?" Twelve asked.

"Only if we want it. And their imagination makes us whoever else, apart from our true groove", Three informed.

I just hope that I hadn't turned into a monster, Twelve thought.


	3. Two Gets Schooled

"Sit quietly, Two, it's not over yet!" Six almost yelped, and Two wrinkled. Yes, dolls could feel the equivalent of pain in human world if they were treated in wrong ways, accidentally or on purpose. This time it was about sewing Two's foot to its proper place: thanks to Johnny Magister's interference it had got ripped off. Again. And Six was busy fixing it.

"Honestly, I've always been curious about these matters with kids", Eleven admitted, climbing onto the windowsill to them. Street light was enough to see, and that was fine, because they couldn't switch the room lights on in the middle of the night. "I've seen that they got ripped lots of times. Then some kind of a red liquid comes out..."

"And what do you think it is?" Six asked, pushing the needle into Two's ankle once again.

"I think it's some kind of natural glue, because when it's gone, they become as undamaged as they were", Eleven continued. "They don't need threads or anything to get fixed".

"They need", Two objected. "I've seen a stitch on a kid one day. My word, it was a damage! Along the whole arm..." He shivered, and Six muttered something like "sit still". "Anyway, I'd really like to know what's it like to have such inside glue and need no stitches..."

* * *

The children quite liked Miss Shaw, their science teacher. Despite she used to study Physics at university, she had quickly found common language with the youngest group and a way to explain complicated matters to youngsters. She often performed experiments and always explained everything, and therefore she had earned the kids' respect and sympathy, especially from Jo Grant and Zoe Heriot.

"Adric Alzar?" Miss Shaw called out, filling her usual list.

"Here".

"Perpugilliam Brown?"

"Here".

"Susan Foreman?"

"Here".

"Josephine Grant?"

"Here".

"Jack Harkness?"

"Me".

"Zoe Heriot?"

"Here".

"Grace Holloway?"

"Here".

"Martha Jones?"

"Here".

"Tegan Jovanka?"

"Here".

"John Magister?"

"Hm!"

"James McCrimmon?"

"..."

Miss Shaw looked up from her list. The place at the back of the classroom was empty.

"We don't know what is going on, Miss Shaw". Martha decided to answer for the group. "He's been gone since the morning".

"We've searched everywhere", Amy added.

"And we asked the older group too, but they haven't seen him", Adric caught up. "It's as if he's gone with a snap".

The children - except, maybe, Johnny Magister, who was always glad to watch anyone in trouble - were obviously nervous about their friend. And they didn't know one little thing - he wasn't gone anywhere.

* * *

Jamie had never felt so... without strength. As if all his power had been sucked out, like juice from an apple. He slowly opened his eyes and quickly jumped up, alert upon the sight of the younger group's common room. No, it hadn't turned into a lab during the night, but there was definitely something wrong about it. It was too huge, that was it.

"Oh dear... I knew that this place had secrets..."

Jamie turned around and screamed in horror upon the sight of an action figure (which was almost as tall as him now!) approaching to him. He backed away, instinctively searching for something like a stick to defend himself.

The figure reached out to him, and Jamie understood that he was pressed against the wall now. Literally.

"Don't be scared, I mean no harm, Jamie", the plastic figure spoke. Jamie's knees wobbled, and he flopped onto the floor. And that was only the beginning.

Now all dolls were approaching to him - all, including the porcelain one, which couldn't move around like that in its usual condition.

"Be careful what you wish for", the crocheted doll mused. "I knew this had sense, but such..."

"Wh... what have you done to me?" Jamie mumbled, his tongue dry.

"It wasn't any of us, it was just a careless phrase misunderstood", the paper doll replied. Only then Jamie glanced down at himself - and didn't recognize. The legs under him were made of denim and cotton, no bones... oh... no...

Before Jamie completely realized what had occurred, there was a rumble in the wardrobe, and a head crowned with a shock of jet-black hair popped from behind its door:

"Oh, please! I didn't mean it at all! I even didn't know that the kid have so many LAYERS!"

All dolls - including Jamie - stared at this total stranger. It was a child, but an unfamiliar one. No one from the group had such thick black mop on the head, such blue eyes, such... clumsiness. Because the boy behaved as if he wasn't fully controlling his actions. Or no. He was not a stranger, just not himself... because the clothing of the boy was a perfect big replica of his usual rumpled and shabby self.

Three facepalmed.

"I tell you I did not see that coming!" Two, now made of flesh and blood instead of cloth and cotton wool, got out of the wardrobe. "Any ideas? You've been here for the longest time, One, so PLEASE tell what you know!"

One rubbed his chin and coughed, attracting everyone's attention.

"Not many people know that Tardis Boarding School is no ordinary place. Nobody knows when it was founded, and the criteria of getting here are not usual either. And why? There's something in the heart of this place. Something alive".

"Just like in you", Jamie interfered. "You seem to be toys, but you're alive. Or do I see you moving and talking because I'm a... doll now?"

"Both", One replied and continued: "So, when the previous night Two asked for having blood, the school heard him and accomplished his wish. But everything should get an exchange, right? So our lovely Tardis turned our Two into a living boy and Jamie into a doll instead".

"But why me?" Jamie wondered.

"Because Two is YOUR toy", One sealed. "Say thanks that he's a rag doll, not a porcelain one, like Five, or I think you would've been in pieces by now if it were like this".

"There's nothing wrong with porcelain", Five murmured. "Anyway, you know a way of restoring things back to the way they should be? Jamie's mates were very worried".

"Perhaps if we ask politely, it can work", Eight supposed.

"Or if Jamie and Two make a wish together", Ten added. "Double wishes have special power, all tales state so".

"Yeah, you must've been nearby when Rose was reading them", Nine parried.

All of a sudden the strangest sound filled the place. It wasn't produced by any living being, or an engine (at least the known one), or any natural reason like the wind - it was as if some fairy tale beast, but not an evil one, was holding an attack of laughter. Wrooomp-vrmp-vrmmmm.

"I told you that something's wrong with this house". One was the first to dare and break the silence. "Hear me?"

"Nine calling Tardis, Nine calling Tardis, over", Nine interrupted.

* * *

"Do you think Jamie will be found?" Victoria asked, while the group was waiting for the English class to begin. Jack smirked - for him, such kind of reactions and behaviour meant one and only one thing. But not for the rest of the kids.

"He's not a toy to be lost", Ace put in. "He's around somewhere. No tracks of escape out there". Here she could be trusted: Ace was the avowed expert of narrow and not too narrow escapes, she knew all the details.

"But it's strange, don't you think?" Grace asked. "I mean, we all wake up according to the alarm clock signal. And Martha usually is the first to do it, but now she appeared to be the second".

"Hey everyone, look what I found in the corridor!" Clara rushed into the classroom, holding something small in her fist.

* * *

"Just put him back where he should be", Two muttered through clenched teeth, watching Clara from the corridor. He still wasn't used to his size, so his running along the corridor had been so shaky that Jamie who had been sitting on his shoulder had fallen off... and now he was in the classroom during the break. Obviously the school was trying to help them restore things as they should be, leading them to its depths (or more like "calling" - when Two, Jamie and Four had been on the wrong way, the "vworp" sounds had resumed, unnoticeable for anyone except them - there would've been a fuss if anyone else had heard them), but now... "Crumbs, what if anyone notices?.."

"I think Tardis wants us to continue", Four informed, straining his plastic ears.

"And what then? Kaboom and kabust?"

Another "vssssshhhhhvworp", this time fiercer.

"Right, coming..."

* * *

Oh dears. Oh noes. Do not blink, do not blink... So many faces staring from the top, and their voices are so loud - like eight or nine windmills working over him... Jamie suddenly felt like a patient before a surgery operation.

"What is there?"

Unexpectedly for himself Jamie felt absolutely relaxed and lost all tension about not blinking. What could've caused that?.. It was like dreaming - he was unable to move or to speak, but saw and understood everything. And he recognized the voice - it was Miss Roman Junior, their English teacher. Unlike her older sister, Miss Roman Senior, who was their Geography teacher, she wasn't as firm and steady and could always give the children a chance to correct their mistakes.

"Miss Roman, Jamie was gone since the morning". Rose was the first to speak.

"And Clara found this then", Vislor added, pointing at Jamie - well, at doll Jamie.

"Ooh, you really think it's some voodoo magic, Weasley?"

Not Johnny Magister. Only not Johnny Magister!

"It's Vislor!" the redhead exploded.

"Don't care. Perhaps you still don't know that there's no magic, there's craf-ti-ness!" Johnny retorted in a sing-song voice. "And if you need magic, ask Roger and Tony!"

Roger and Tony were Johnny's older brothers who studied at Tardis Boarding School as well. Actually the Magister family was huge - it had seven children, all boys, and all here, but in different groups. Or no, all but one right now - Johnny's twin brother Harold was in sick bay with pneumonia... and maybe it was better because he was the same somewhat of a bully with Johnny. In fact, from all the Magisters only Yanek, the fifth of them, seemed to be a kind soul. The black sheep of the family, naturally.

"Finish that, Johnny, or we'll tell Benton and Yates about you", Jo threatened.

"And Nyssa will turn you into bubbles with her chemistry!" Tegan added and lolled her tongue at Johnny. Nyssa was the student from the older group and their main scientific expert.

* * *

Now I know what the expression "heart shrinking with fear" means, Two thought, creeping downstairs to the school basement. Luckily he hadn't met anybody in the corridors. It would've been a trouble if he had bumped into anyone... yeah, one thing was that he looked like a little hobo (his clothing, even in this increased version, kept all the stitches even done to fix him), and another thing was about Four sitting on his shoulder like a pirate parrot.

When Two's eyes got adjusted to the darkness, he saw that the basement, apart from old furniture usually kept in places like this, contained a highly unexpected item - a hexagonal table with a glass column in the middle.

"Looks like a gear from some sci-fi movie", Four whispered. "I know. Sarah Jane loves them, I've seen loads".

"Mm-hmm. Tell me that it's like that Piece of Resistance from The Lego Movie!" Two replied, approaching to it - now he learned the sense of the idiom "feet of clay" (or was it "feet of cotton"? Never mind). "Come here, come here, touch it, touch it... Definitely".

Another tense "vshvworp".

"Okay, okay, coming!"

Who would need to make such a table? You couldn't put anything on it: its top was at the angle to the floor, so everything would've fallen off... After a bit of studying Two discovered that it was more like a chest with six covers than a table. Six covers which shot up as soon as he was close to them.

* * *

_Victoria. Victoria Waterfield. Take the doll and bring it into the corridor, and right now._

Victoria started when this whispering sounded in her head. Yes, in her head, not in her ears which were filled with Miss Roman Junior's explanations of the grammar rules.

"Who is that?" the girl asked, hardly moving her lips.

_Don't ask. Come out and leave the doll on the windowsill, then come back. I will help you not to be noticed. Do it if you want your friend to be all right._

"So Jamie really became a doll?" Victoria squeaked, again almost soundlessly.

_Do as I say if you want him to become human again._

In a moment there was a crash, and three kids - Adric, Vislor and Susan - were on the floor. Victoria didn't remember how she got into the corridor during the mess which immediately began - she just dashed there and back, like in autopilot mode, and was at her desk before the mess was over.

"That wasn't me, Miss Roman!" Adric was hastily explaining. "The chair threw me onto the floor!"

"And me too!" Susan shot out.

"And me! Wish it threw YOU as well!" This Vislor's phrase was addressed, obviously, to Johnny.

When the pandemonium (yeah, every normal child grabs a chance to express him- or herself even in such trifles) was finally hushed, Miss Roman Junior examined the classroom once again and almost became a reason of possible new fuss:

"Jamie! Where have you been? Almost half a lesson passed!"

The kids turned around as one, staring at their mate, safe and sound, sitting at his desk, his face twisted in a grimace of understanding nothing. Victoria let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

"But it's true, Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart! I don't remember anything! It's like... as if I was dreaming and then woke up at my desk!"

"You've been gone for half a day, and you were nowhere to be found. You'd better find an explanation, young McCrimmon".

"Poor Jamie". Amy walked away from the vice-headmaster's office's door. "You think he'll be punished?"

"Brig's fair", John Benton, the older student who was here, objected. "Sometimes he prefers to shoot the problems, but he's a fair guy. At least he never punishes for nothing".

"Glad to hear it", Clara said. "But we all saw that doll. It was gone after Jamie was back, and no one saw how. Have you heard about anything like it, Susan?"

"There's rumour that our school is haunted", Susan replied. She was the group's main expert in unexplainable matters, this is why she gained a nickname "The Unearthly Child", which was popular even among some of the teachers. "Strange things used to happen. My grandfather told me about plastic figures coming to life, and rocks falling from the sky..."

"You mean meteors?" Benton asked.

"Yes. And about strange living things appearing here... He even showed me some photos, but I didn't think that something like this could happen to one of us", Susan finished.

"Bet Roger Magister or his black-faced bro took part". Peri hit her palm with her fist.

"Anyway, we've got our mate back, and that's fine", Amy noticed.

"But if anything else like this happens... even slightly... I think we gotta investigate", Benton offered.

* * *

"What cheer for painted eyes!" Seven exclaimed, watching Two - back in his raggedy skin again - and Four enter the younger group's common room. "Hey everybody, Two's back!"

"What was there, Two?" Eleven was the first to run to them.

Two told them everything that had taken place, but when it came to what had occurred after the chest-table's covers had shot up, words were stuck in his throat, because he couldn't explain it clearly enough.

"There was light, and like a large eye looking at me from under the covers", he finally managed. "Then it grabbed me and pulled me somewhere... and then... then I returned. The way as I should be. Ooh! Six!"

"Huh?"

"If I ever ask for something like I did last night, make me shut up!"

"Why don't you ask me?" Three interfered. "I'd be glad to..."

"SNAP!"


	4. Calculators and Vampires

"Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine..."

"Hmm?.. Huh?" Zoe opened her right eye (her left wasn't wishing to open) and glanced at the alarm clock with lighting hands. 2:16 a.m. Despite this fact, some of her mates wasn't sleeping, and Zoe thought she knew who it was.

She sat on the bed and made sure she was right. It was Adric sitting on the windowsill, right over his bed, so in case of emergency he could just roll over and pretend to be asleep.

"Adric? Why aren't you sleeping?" Zoe whispered.

"Just couldn't", the boy admitted.

"What are you doing there?"

"Counting stars. Someone counts sheep, and I count stars".

"And how many are there?"

"Don't know exactly yet, but I won't fall asleep until I know the exact number".

Numbers. That was his cup of tea. In many ways Adric was an average kid - not too fine in P.E. (Mr. Jackson, their P.E. teacher, often gave him Ds and Cs despite all his efforts), average at English and literature, this and that in other subjects, but when it came to mathematical matters, he became a walking calculator. Actually, he was not the only one "subject pro" of their group. For instance, Zoe herself was the best of the best in astronomy and physics, but was no good when it came to hand-working; Vislor was a top head in history (and their history teacher's, Miss Wright's, favourite), but full rubbish at literature (once he had even confessed that he hated "all those quirky language twirls"); Leela was the greatest in P.E., but sciences were not her sphere.

"Just explain me, Adric, how do you manage to make those calculations in your head?"

"Remember, when on our biology lesson Mr. Chesterton told us about electrical impulses which emerge in our brain? I think the matter is making them work. Calculators also have electric impulses, so... why can't I do things that this plastic and metal does? And besides, that's not me operating with numbers, those are numbers which operate me".

"Okay then. Tell me how much is a myriad if twelve is a dozen, twelve dozen are a gross, twelve grosses are a dozanda, and twelve dozandas are a myriad".

"Twenty thousand seven hundred and thirty-six", Adric replied immediately.

Zoe checked the answer on her pocket calculator - it was the exact answer.

"I don't know. The answer just... there's a little zap in my head, and I know the answer", Adric shrugged.

"Fine, and if I gave you a pack of marbles or something, could you tell me their exact number?"

"Try me".

After a brief search Zoe found a small plastic bag of huge multi-colored beads in her bed-table (how had it appeared there anyway?) and gave it to Adric. The boy twirled the pack in his hands and assumed:

"Ninety-seven red, thirty-two purple, one pink and seventy-three blue. Check me, I'm not too sure about this".

* * *

The next morning started with a brand new statement. Guess who was its author. Johnny Magister, of course!

"Hey everyone, did you know that one of us is a vampire?"

"What in the name of bagpipes are you on about?" Jamie called out, tidying his bed up. Vislor and Ace giggled - both, without any warning, imagined Jamie in a Scottish kilt. That was easy, because he was still in his checkered pyjamas.

"Everybody knows that vampires love counting things, and I've heard with my own ears that Adric was counting without stopping this night!" Johnny proclaimed.

"If he's good at Maths, that means it's his talent, not some rubbish like your chatting", Tegan retorted.

"And not some rubbish like staying awake at night!" Johnny wasn't going to calm down.

"Cease rambling, Johnny", Susan interrupted. "We all know there's no such things as vampires".

"Oh yeah? Let's ask Miss Wright today on out history lesson!"

"Don't worry, Adric, you know it well that Johnny's like an empty barrel which rumbles with no harm", Amy whispered.

* * *

But this time it appeared to be not just the "empty barrel" because after the classes both Johnny and Adric were gone... but not too far away, at least Johnny. The kids were in their common room when its door shot open, and Mr. Maxil, the school caretaker and guard, emerged in the doorway.

All the kids immediately clang to their places - none of them wanted to fall into his clutches. From the very beginning, Maxil had a type of face that was not made for positive emotions. To say honest, it hardly ever expressed any feelings except for seriousness and "poker face". Most that it could show was a small, but strong bit of irritation, and right now there was such situation. In addition, Maxil was absolutely humorless, and the only thing which could make him give out "the smile's shadow", as the older kids called it, was making sure that the guilty one got his or her deserved punishment.

"Trust me, boy, it's not over yet", Maxil noticed, addressing it to Johnny, whose wrist was firmly - till white knuckles - grabbed, not letting him go. "Unless your mate appears alive, and I doubt that, you're going to have trouble much worse than a punishment".

He almost threw Johnny into the room and smashed the door shut.

For a minute silence was dominating, before Martha finally spoke:

"Alive?.. What does he mean, Johnny?"

"The wrong Magister!" River, the girl from the older group, unexpectedly entered after Johnny. "I told Maxil that Tony was guilty, but no. Wish I had a gun to teach him a lesson!"

"Don't delay it, River! What happened?" Victoria asked anxiously.

"Tony Magister took Brig's car without a permission, grabbed Johnny and Adric on the way and managed to crash it into garbage! Honestly, I'll be very very surprised and disappointed if Tony doesn't get suspended or even expelled".

"And what did Maxil mean when talking about alive and not alive?" Rose whispered.

"He MEANT it. The car's now nothing apart from a burning metal corpse. Tony's at Brig's room... but that's the point, really. I've been at the scene of the crash. Logically, if there were three people in a car, three people should've stayed, but only two did".

The kids gasped.

"Adric's gone. Literally. Snap! Disappeared in thin air".

"But... why did he go with those Magisters?.." Clara wondered, her voice very small.

"Don't know. Perhaps it was Johnny who challenged him about something... and you'd better waited for worst, Johnny", River finished and left.

* * *

"Mr. Sullivan! Let me in, please!"

Harry Sullivan, the school nurse, took two or three deep inhales to relax, walked closer to the door and asked:

"Who is there?"

"It's Tegan Jovanka, Mr. Sullivan..."

"I cannot let you in right now, Tegan. Wait for a while".

"Tegan?" sounded from the bed where the reason of declining entering for her was. Mr. Sullivan suspected that Adric - whose face and hands were almost all one huge burn, luckily on its first stage and without any nasty skin bubbles - had been involved in the recent car crash, but didn't tell it to anyone.

"I'll let her in later, Adric", he replied, approaching to him and continuing applying the burn ointment to his damaged patches.

A moment of silence.

"I can't see anything... I'm blind!"

"No, you're not. Just stay still, I'll do my best to help you. Soon it all will be as required".

"Oh..."

"You'd better not talk much".

Some more moments of silence.

"Mr. Sullivan? My right hand. It doesn't hurt anymore".

The addressed one glanced at Adric's right hand and held in a gasp: the damaged patches were renewing themselves with impossible speed. The reddened skin patches were getting whiter and smoother right in front of his eyes. And not only on the hands: on the face the process was going on too, though slower. Mr. Sullivan had never seen anything like it, and he could swear he had seen clouds of sparkles glittering over the boy's hands and face for a moment.

Finally the skin was restored to the way it should be, Adric opened his eyes and looked around. Mr. Sullivan quickly collected himself:

"Just stay there. You may need to rest for a while".

* * *

Only when all the clocks in the common room showed 9:12 p.m., the door creaked again, letting the "possible victim" in. And, to everyone's surprise, the first to speak wasn't Tegan - it was Johnny:

"That's just unfair! He's not even hurt!"

"Caught red-handed", John Benton and Mike Yates proclaimed, entering the room behind Adric. Then Yates narrowed his eyes at Johnny:

"Seems like you gotta explain something".

"You gonna slander about me?" Johnny snapped.

"No, we're not. It was just checking", Benton finished.

Meanwhile Adric climbed onto his bed and was surrounded by anxious kids in a blink. No wonder: making a bet with two Magisters, then getting into a car crash (while driving Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart's car!) and eventually not even earning a scratch - wasn't that anything extraordinary? But Adric had his own story to tell. When the avalanche of opinions was over, he finally spoke:

"I got burned after the crash. Ask Mr. Sullivan, he'll approve it. And not only that... I felt like a wave of heat over me, and then... as if a hurricane grabbed me and brought me to another place in a second. I don't remember exactly where to, because I couldn't see anything, but then Mr. Sullivan found me. And when I was there, the burn and everything... it got healed. Very quickly and by itself..."

"I see it didn't have anything in common with your hair". Clara appeared to be the most attentive: she noticed that locks in Adric's thick black fringe were burnt there and here.

"Told you he's a vampire", Johnny put in. "Counts things, heals quickly... what else do you need?"

Adric made up a toothy grin:

"Perhaps this? Knock it off, Magister, things like this have never happened to me".

For a brief moment there was an unearthly golden glow in his dark eyes, but it was gone so quickly that no one noticed it.

* * *

"Are you sure this will do?" Eight asked, climbing onto Adric's bed after Three.

"Children are very impressive. We could try and see what he saw. Or maybe a background..."

"I've got a feeling". Two hurried to join them, and Three rolled his eyes. "I think that it's sort of thing like that happened to me and Jamie. Remember, when we switched roles?"

Eight crawled to Adric's head and put both palms into his black mop:

"That's weird. I see a vortex. All colors possible, and clouds, and thunderbolts... wait a bit, there's a golden cloud. And he's inside, it's carrying him out!"

Two and Three stared at each other, bamboozled.

"Golden... I felt the same when we were switched back, as if I was pulled somewhere", Two recalled. "Perhaps... it's the school showing its character again? It laughed at me the previous time".

"No wonder that Tardis didn't help the Magisters", Three muttered.


	5. Mr Smith

**Someone important is about to come.**

* * *

Students of the older group of Tardis Boarding School sometimes visited their younger friends. But there was a difference. If those were John Benton and Mike Yates (almost always together), or Nyssa, or Dodo, or Steven, that was a usual thing. They were fine pals for the younger group. If that was River Song, it was about telling the truth. Despite everyone in the older group said that "River is a liar", she would tell it all to the younglings as it was, even if it was something "forbidden"... but the trouble was that she told it when she wanted and always at her will. No begging could make her tell the truth - that depended on her mood... If that was any of the older Magisters (okay, almost any - that wasn't about Yanek), only Johnny was glad to see them (no wonder, family blood!). If that was Yanek, that meant that some of the younger group needed tutoring. Yanek wasn't rough or rude, like his siblings - on the contrary, he was calm and patient, and always ready to help, this is why he gained a nickname "Professor".

This time it was River.

"Hey everybody, did you know that next week we're going to get inspected?" she proclaimed from the very beginning.

Tegan dropped her porcelain "Doctor Five" doll - luckily it landed on the soft carpet.

"Inspected?" Amy parroted.

River didn't even startle at the sight of many eyes staring at her - of course, the children didn't usually believe anyone taller than them from the first time.

"Don't worry. The inspector will be Mr. Rass Silon", she said, entering the room and sitting onto the handle of an armchair in which Amy's best friend Rory was sitting. "Say thanks that it won't be Mr. Borusa".

"It's all Greek to me", Grace admitted.

"Okay, you little not-know-it-alls, let me explain. Borusa is a hypocrite. But you surely don't know what that means".

"Hypocrite is someone who says, thinks and does completely different things", Vislor's voice sounded from the corner - he was drawing there.

"Smart gingersnap", River grinned. "Mr. Silon tells what he thinks and what he wants to do. Always. And, as for me, it's better than booby-trapping the expectations".

"We got that, River, but what is our task?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Oh, there's nothing too scary. Mr. Silon is going to watch you studying. All day long. Then he will take notes and conclude about how good the studying is", River explained. "There were some inspections in our group. My goodness, Borusa was worse than any Umbridge! Though hardly any of you read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix..."

"I read", Susan interfered.

"Me too", Grace caught up.

"And me", Martha added.

"Fine, girls, then you know what I am talking about", River concluded. "Lots of questions and demands addressed to Brig and to Headmaster Smith too... but Mr. Silon just took notes and then told us about his conclusion. So don't be afraid... and don't be surprised if Mr. Smith shows up at your lessons. Bye!"

She blew them a kiss and left. The children exchanged worried looks.

"What do we have on Monday?" Victoria finally asked.

Martha looked through her notebook:

"Okay, so the first will be programming... this is Miss Bush... then Mr. Chesterton's biology, then English with Miss Roman Junior... then Miss Shaw's maths and Miss Wright's history".

"At least no P.E. - I'm not going to show my shame to any grown-up except for Mr. Jackson", Peri put in.

* * *

Tardis Boarding School wasn't a haunted mansion - it was a kind of house which has soul. Some of the students didn't believe it, some had already experienced the matters which could happen within these walls, but no one knew this place like its headmaster John Smith. To say honest, it wasn't totally his idea to choose the students according to their features of character - it also depended on the Tardis. Sometimes she warned him about her suspicions in her own way, and was usually right... but Mr. Smith had his own opinion. Like that time with the boy named Adam Mitchell. He was a child prodigy, but after that case with unlocking the secret codes he had got expelled without a doubt.

Mr. Smith was a kind of man whom everyone trusted. Except, maybe, Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart and Miss Roman Senior - those two had their own positions always and in all times, though it didn't mean they didn't trust Mr. Smith. They just preferred solving the problems in their own way... and they didn't know what was making everyone (especially children) believe this man.

From the very beginning, Mr. Smith was an extraordinary person. Even in his appearance, though it consisted of normal elements - it was impossible to tell how old he was. Twenty-five, or thirty, or even fifty? He was very tall and well-built, with jet-black, but surprisingly soft chin-length hair, thick eyebrows and straight nose. What about his eyes? Well, all the oddities began from them. They didn't have the exact color. Most of the time they stayed strongly blue, but they could become jade green, or amber, or chocolate brown, or misty grey, or whatever, but the sparkle of curiosity and intelligence never left them. And in all, he looked more like some kind of an overgrown fairytale creature than like a human being. As about his clothing...

As about his clothing, this was another question. Most of the time he wore a brown business suit with blue pinstripes and black leather shoes, laces of which were so long that they always trailed behind, but that didn't seem to bother him. In cold days this all was accompanied by a black cape with red lining in Sherlock Holmes style. In addition a tiny magnifying glass on a lace was hanging on his neck, like a locket, and a chain of rather anachronistic pocket-watch was hanging from Mr. Smith's pocket. Upon a closer look you could catch more unusual details, like question marks embroidered on the collar of his light blue shirt or a strange pen with red pulsing light sticking from his chest pocket. Yes, his pockets were always full of all kinds of things.

Many students - even the grown-up ones - think that the headmaster has the undeniable power and therefore can never be pushed or influenced. But they are wrong. No words about headmasters of other schools, but Mr. Smith was worried about the oncoming inspection even more than some of the students... perhaps because of those special criteria for the students.

There was a reason why Mr. Smith almost never invited anyone to his study, and it was about to be accomplished. With a slight "woosh" a sheet of paper with a list written on it appeared out of thin air next to him.

"Thank you", Mr. Smith said softly. He knew that this house was alive, and he could even communicate with it in some way, but not always successful... though this time it had the needed results. He wanted to check his own research on the younger group's students' "criteria qualities" with Tardis's.

_BRAVERY: Jack Harkness, Tegan Jovanka, Sarah Jane Smith, Rose Tyler  
KINDNESS: Grace Holloway, Victoria Waterfield, Amelia Pond  
WIT: Zoe Heriot, John Magister, Martha Jones, Clara Oswald  
SINCERITY: Adric Alzar, Susan Foreman, Perpugilliam Brown_  
_EQUITY: Vislor Turlough, Dorothy McShane, Leela Sevateem  
FAITH: James McCrimmon, Josephine Grant, Rory Williams_

"Alas, I can't give it to Silon as the summing up..." Mr. Smith sighed.

* * *

Some of the younger group's students - especially some of the girls - hoped that the inspector is going to be a young man without any possible reason to judge them or their teachers. But the real situation revealed to be a total opposite. Mr. Silon appeared to be a tall man of about forty (his dark hair was already turning grey, but his face was quite youthful), and in addition had different hands. Literally - some of the students shivered at the sight of his left hand which was completely made out of steel. No one knew where his natural left hand had been lost, even the older students (and even such know-it-alls like River), but it was clear that the reason wasn't anything like banal auto crash. In addition, Mr. Silon's clothing consisted of a vinous business suit, and he was carrying a golden walking stick, which made him look like a representative of some royal dynasty.

The first lesson went on smoothly. Mr. Silon was simply marking something in his notebook, and after the lesson questioned Miss Bush about something (none of the kids listened, because they wanted this day to end as fast as possible).

"I thought this would be worse", Peri admitted, while the kids were making their way to Mr. Chesterton's classroom.

"Looks like he's unlike that old gargoyle from the book", Susan added. "Like my grandfather says, horrible at outside and good man inside..."

"AHEM!"

Both girls froze upon noticing the large shadow in front of them in addition to this sound.

"What are we talking about, girls?" Mr. Silon asked, towering over them like a storm cloud. "Old gargoyle?"

"W-we were discussing a book, Mr. Silon", Susan replied, and Peri gave a sheepish smile. The inspector squinted at them and went aside.

"At least it wasn't a lie", Peri whispered. "I've heard that there are people who sense lies miles and miles away from them".

"Oh, really, Peri, you think so? You gotta be a walking radar to be able to perform such tricks", Jack entered their talk.

"Don't shout, Jack, he can hear us", Susan asked in a low voice - despite now there was distance, but Mr. Silon could hear them if he wanted to. Luckily he was involved in a talk with Miss Roman Senior.

"You know what I don't want to happen, girls?" Jack asked. "I totally don't like the idea of this iron-handed man talking to Maxil. A lot of secret info will be given out if it takes place!"

All three snorted with laughter, but immediately put on the masks of seriousness.

"You know, it's not too persuasive".

This voice was new. Susan, Peri and Jack slowly turned around to see someone absolutely new - a tall dark-topped man in brown pinstriped suit.

"Stop that being official, it works only with dry-hearted red tape ones", the man noticed, examining the three children with his look. At least there's nothing wrong with our uniform, Peri thought. All three, as well as the rest of the children, were dressed in their "class clothing", all as required. Tardis Boarding School uniform consisted of indigo trousers (or skirts), white shirts, blue "academy" vests and black-and-blue striped ties - a full set. "I am Mr. Smith, the school headmaster".

Even better, Peri thought.

"Don't think that Mr. Silon inspects only you - his task is to make conclusions about the teachers. And me as well", Mr. Smith continued. "Of course, partly it depends on you, but don't think that your teachers are not worried. Tell me, is... emm... Miss Roman Junior a good teacher? Susan?"

"Yes. She always explains everything to us with all the examples", Susan replied. This was a case of believing - even the air around Mr. Silon was tense, while Mr. Smith managed to make the atmosphere relaxing with only his presence.

"And she gives us marks which we deserve", Jack added. "I think it's fair".

"And she never humiliates us", Peri finished.

"So you don't have any reason to worry". Mr. Smith smiled at them - this smile was so large and sincere that it occupied half of his face. The trio instinctively smiled back. "See you".

* * *

"How was it, sweeties?" River's cloud of dark blond curls sowed itself from behind the door. "Someone's not amused".

This comment was referring to Rose, who was sitting with a book of old poetry.

"Rose got a D again", Johnny Magister said without a warning, in his usual manner. "And Miss Roman Junior gave her an extra task for tomorrow. Learning a poem by heart".

"Oh, Rose, that's much easier than Shakespearian twisting words!" Vislor informed, having glanced into her book over her shoulder. "I'm sick and tired of those "hath" and "doth"! You'll tell it tomorrow, and it will be no problem!"

"And Headmaster Smith? Did he show himself?" River asked.

"Yes". Zoe was the first to reply. "Mr. Silon got not amused with Miss Shaw's methods..."

"...he thought that the info was too hard for us..." Jamie caught up.

"...though she explained it really clearly..." Leela added.

"...and for someone it was already a trifle..." Rory nodded at Adric, who immediately gained two pinkish spots on his cheeks.

"...and still there was something wrong for him", Martha finished.

"But Mr. Smith talked to him, and it all was fine eventually", Peri said. "He's strange, but good, that Mr. Smith".

"You can't imagine HOW good he is", River grinned. "I'll tell you one thing, sweeties: our headmaster is the best one our school could get, and we are very lucky... Almost forgot. Tomorrow Silon's gonna inspect some of your classes too!"

"Oh, no..." Peri, Adric and Amy groaned - they thought they were going to be the next to get an extra task. In P.E.

* * *

**A/N: Yes. Mr. Smith is a killer combo of all the Doctors. Details borrowed:**

**One - magnifying glass "locket" **  
**Two - eyes changing color (I've mentioned the colors which they take in books)**  
**Three - tall height**  
**Four - wide toothy smile**  
**Five - hairstyle**  
**Six - shirt with question marks on the collar**  
**Seven - hair color and "fairytale creature" impression**  
**Eight - pocket-watch**  
**Warrior - "red light pen" (actually his sonic)**  
**Nine - well-built stature**  
**Ten - brown suit**  
**Eleven - shoes with long laces**  
**Twelve - cape with red lining**


	6. The Blue Book

Children are often embarrassed or even afraid of visiting places which, as they think, "belong only to adults". In Tardis Boarding School there was such place. It was the library. And one of the reasons was the school librarian Miss Noble - most of the older group students called her "walking explosive", because her mood could switch from one to another in a mere second. But not only that: no one, including students and teachers (and perhaps even Headmaster Smith), dared to enrage her. Perhaps only vice-headmaster Lethbridge-Stuart could tame her... Anyway, visiting the library was always preluded by an eager discussion and recalling whose turn it was (this was borrowed from the older students), though it was necessary. The school library held many rare books in lots of languages, and there was a gossip that there even was a universal translating device there, though hardly anyone - except, maybe, Yanek Magister, the only one clever and sane enough of his family - had used it.

This time it revealed that the "library gang" would consist of Ace, Vislor and Clara.

"Thank goodness that Johnny Magister isn't with us", the first one informed, while they were making their way to the place. Clara nodded - though she was a newbie in Tardis Boarding School, she already knew what was whose trick.

"Hope you left your home-made Molotov cocktails under your bed". And that was all of Vislor - he would always find an alternative to a suggestion, and it would be evil-like. Ace thumbed her nose at him. "Or bet your Doctor Seven is full of it".

Ace glared daggers at him - this was a bit too much. Her "Doctor Seven" wooden puppet was her most favourite property, and she wouldn't let anyone damage it.

When they reached the library, the atmosphere there appeared to be peaceful. Miss Noble was concentrated on typing something - all school knew that this was her cup of tea. One hundred words a minute.

"Hello, Miss Noble", Vislor began. She stopped typing and turned to him. "Are there any Greek mythology books left? We need to prepare reports for Miss Wright".

"Hold on... There are, you can look yourself there". Miss Noble switched her attention to Clara. "And who are you?"

"This is Clara Oswald, she's new", Ace hurried to inform.

"I hope you know the rules", Miss Noble noticed. "No food or drinks, no book vandalism, no phones ringing". Clara nodded. "All right, off you go. Ask if you need any help".

"You'd better not ask her for help", Ace whispered when they three were gone among the bookshelves. "She's the one of those who will bite your arm off is you give them your finger".

After a brief search it revealed that there were too many books to choose, so the kids collected as many as they could and brought them to their desk to sort them. But after two or three more walks along the shelves Clara noticed something odd. All the books were standing in particular order, but there was one of them which was plainly laid over all of them. It was quite old, had deep blue cover in square patterns (Clara thought about the school's emblem upon having seen this) and no name. And no text as well - Clara looked through it, but its pages were blank. In fact, it was more like an old notebook.

"Do you think it got here by mistake?" she asked, showing it to her pals. She thought that it was just a lost notebook, but no. When Vislor took it to examine, his expression changed to worried - and he could sense anything potentially dangerous better than most of the group. Sixth sense, was it called this way?..

"There's something wrong with it", he informed, opening it and glancing around for Miss Noble not to interfere. "Something weird, I'd say..."

"You sure?" Ace asked.

Vislor nodded.

"Remember, when there was a strange case with Jamie? Benton and Yates suggested investigating if something like this happens... or can happen", Clara recalled. "Why can't we?"

"Shhh!" Vislor hushed. "We will, but not here, okay?"

* * *

Despite all the worries, the empty notebook was successfully brought out of the library together with a bagful of Greek mythology books. But the three decided to show it only after all the home tasks were done.

"For me, it's just an old diary", Rose said, twirling the notebook in her hands. "Nothing special".

"Maybe it's not empty?" Martha suggested. "I've heard that sometimes secret codes are written with milk or lemon juice, which then becomes visible if there's warmth".

But the trial of warming the pages up with the hairdryer (borrowed before from someone of the older group... perhaps Nyssa) gave no result.

"And if we try to write? Notebooks are made for writing in them", Adric suggested.

"Then you do it, Adric Potter", Johnny Magister snapped.

"And I will".

All group gathered around the desk at which he was sitting. Feeling everybody's looks drilling him, Adric sighed and wrote on the front page: "ADRIC ALZAR". And then the strange things began.

The written letters exploded into thinner lines, which began crawling all over the page, forming pictures - at first it was a crashed spaceship on a river bank, then a flock of bats, then a railway station. Finally they described a huge explosion, and the page was blank again.

"Wow", Rory only managed to say.

"Hey, let me, Alzar!" Johnny almost pushed Adric off his chair and wrote his name on the front page. This time the picture was single - a blurry figure floating through some kind of vortex. "And what does it suppose to mean?.."

"Preferably nothing... Let me, I was among those who found it!" Vislor was the next. Unexpectedly, his name at first changed into a simple pattern - two triangles into each other. And, judging by Vislor's widened eyes, he knew what that meant... Then the lines formed an exact human figure - a shape of a young man in business suit, holding a hat stand like a spear.

"Hey, that's you!" Tegan was the first to see the similarity of the one who wrote and the one who appeared. "That's you, Vislor, but... grown-up you..."

The next pictures were not too optimistic - car crash, then something like a pirate ship soaring in the sky, then horsemen in medieval clothing. When the page went blank again, the ginger-top frowned.

"Okay, it gave this out", he muttered and undid his shirt's left cuff, pulling the sleeve up. It revealed that he had a small tattoo on his left shoulder - the replica of that odd triangular symbol. "Family matters, and that's not just a mark".

"Come oooooon, VT, give me a try!" Jo interfered.

* * *

As soon as the last member of the younger group stopped tossing and turning, the plastic doll with a mop of brown curls, wrapped in the longest scarf, raised its head.

"Coast clear", Four informed. "Wake up everybody!"

All twelve dolls quickly gathered under the desk not to be spotted in case of something. Seven was the first to tell the background:

"Clara found this book in the library. It was just lying there undisturbed, until she brought it. And Vislor said there was something wrong with it".

"No wonder", Three muttered. "You saw what they all did".

He meant that the children - most of them - had been writing their names in the book and watching images appearing until Mr. Lethbridge-Stuart had come to tell them it had been too late.

"Yes, but I didn't mean only that. If it was there, someone must have left it", Seven continued.

"You suppose it's Headmaster Smith?" Ten wondered.

"No. Such things are not made just for fun... I know it".

"Seems like Ace's chemistry made our Seven suspicious about anything that smells wrong", Six whispered to Eleven and got a sharp punch with Seven's wooden elbow into his patchwork side. "Hey!"

"Smells wrong and goes BOOM", Five mused. "Hmm... Three, Four, can you help me get onto the table? I want to try and write something there too".

"What?!" Three exclaimed, having made someone - most probably, Jamie or Johnny - mutter without waking and roll around in the bed for a while.

"Whatever happens, there is a base of strange things", Five parried.

* * *

The next morning Susan was the first to wake up - a rare case, usually it was Martha. Maybe because she was worried. Her grandfather had told her about many weird, odd and eerie cases, so she had an additional reason to be anxious. And it approved.

The blue book was still on the table, but now it was open, and its pages weren't blank - they were covered with pictures, or, more exactly, portraits. Most of them were the portraits of strangers, and all different - this one with puffy white curls, that one with a shock of jet-black hair; this one dressed in a classical suit, that one in fancy clothes; this one looks like an old grumbler, that one like a lonely romantic soul. Susan, her fingers trembling, went on turning the yellowish pages over. And the very first female portrait made her drop the book. Why? Because she thought that the page was a mirror. The girl drawn on it was Susan's copy, though she looked older - about fifteen, perhaps, while Susan was still nine. Among the younger group Martha was the oldest - she was ten, while the youngest was Jo, still six.

This was not the only "coincidence". The next pages contained scenes of various - mostly strange - happenings including those very strangers, usually with someone else. And among those "someone else" Susan noticed - what the?.. - Miss Roman Senior and Miss Roman Junior, one after one. But no one more, and no pictures that had been seen yesterday shown themselves.

All in all, the book was full of untold stories.

* * *

"What is she doing?" Johnny Magister whispered loudly, watching Susan ask Miss Roman Junior about something not heard, but at least guessable. "There's no sense anyway".

"Sew lips, Magister", Ace interfered.

"You saw what happened. It's fine to ask", Vislor caught up.

When this talk was over, they found a free windowsill to sit on, and Susan told them what she had received:

"Miss Roman Junior thinks that it's about this house. I asked her about the history of our school, and..."

"Oh gods, why?.." Vislor groaned, but Susan continued without stopping:

"Because the cover of this book is... well, like the box on the school emblem, don't you think?" She pointed at the school emblem embroidered on her vest - the blue "police box" (no one quite knew what that meant) surrounded by circular patterns. "She said that our school was built on the place where there had been... emm... she called it a crack, but I think she meant lightning".

"Yeah, a typical scary movie scenario. Haunted mansion built on the place where lightning had struck", Ace put in.

"Wait! Doesn't it... I don't know... sound suspicious that she told you that?" Vislor asked all of a sudden. "Such things are not told randomly, or it was just a prank... and it doesn't sound like that..."

"It's not a prank".

The kids started, then slowly turned their heads just to see Headmaster Smith who was watching them.

"I just knew that it couldn't be kept a secret forever", Mr. Smith mused. "I will tell you".

"Why? I thought such things are usually kept in secret", Vislor repeated.

"Yes. And if it's about school, there are grand secrets which all school knows", Mr. Smith beamed. "Okay. This book holds the story of our school. Its past, its present, even perhaps the future, but it reveals it not to everyone and often shows the pictures that can have double or triple meaning, so it's no use trying to get it all at once. Each and every one who gets here leaves a track, and it's reflected there too".

"Like a journal, yes?" Susan asked.

"Mm-hmm. The Tardis Boarding School journal... but I don't think you should fool around with it any more. You'd better return it back to where you found it. Promise that you will do it as soon as possible?"

The children nodded. Not only because they were to nod in front of the adult, but because twinges of fear appeared in them. No, such things shouldn't be made toys.

"And one more thing. During my life I've never met anyone that wasn't important, so you can be sure that you leave tracks in this world even without looking into this book", Mr. Smith concluded.


	7. Guardian Angel

"That's not possible. That's just not possible..."

"Cease rambling, Tyler, that won't do anything", Johnny Magister snapped, annoyed with Rose's nervous walking from one corner to another.

"But our Grace couldn't just get into trouble!" the girl exclaimed, waving her hands (one of them was occupied with her leather "Doctor Nine" doll, while she wasn't paying attention to this). "She's bestest in behaviour among us!"

"Whatever do you mean, Rose?" Jack slyly asked. Rose lolled her tongue to him. No wonder: Jack wasn't the one with perfect behaviour, totally he wasn't. All the kids could behave well when they wanted or they were to, but it was the most difficult task for Jack and Johnny. The first was too "natural", the second couldn't help making cunning remarks along the way.

All in all, it was about Grace. A couple of hours ago the younger group had heard that she had got into an accident - it had been unclear which, but it had been about falling into a pit and then trials of getting out... with all the consequences. Thank goodness that Grace hadn't received any serious traumas apart from a couple of bruises and scratched hands, but the rules stated that she was to spend a night in the Tardis Boarding School sick bay. Yes, it was better than hospital, in all cases, but still... Despite some adults suppose children to be heartless, these very children were always worried for each other. And they would gladly do anything for each other... well, almost all of them.

* * *

This night the dolls had to wait longer until the last kid was asleep. And guess which of them immediately began walking from side to side.

"For heaven's sake, tell him to cease that", Nine complained, his arms crossed. "I guess you're not going to carry me around like Rose did, Eight!"

"She's your owner..." Eight muttered.

Three, who preferred actions to words, grabbed him by his elbow and pulled down onto the floor:

"Let me guess: you're nervous about Grace?"

"I am", Eight admitted. "I really am".

"Trust me, most of us had moments when we feel that our owners need us, but we couldn't join them..." Three mused. "There are two ways to get rid of it. First is to pretend that it's okay, even if it isn't".

"And the second?"

"Make all the way to them..."

He'd better not said it - a moment later Eight was gone from sight.

* * *

"What?.." Mr. Smith muttered, rolling in his bed. He had his very own room in this building, and no one apart from him knew how to enter it, so he could feel safely here, completely isolated from the outer world, at least for a while... and not isolated from the Tardis's will. For some reason the house decided to wake him in the middle of the night. Persuasively.

Still half-asleep, Mr. Smith pulled a robe over his blue pajamas dotted with small white stars and walked out of his room, obeying the signals given by the soul living in this house. He knew that Tardis wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't listen to her.

After a short walk in the corridor he almost stepped on something little. No doubt, it was one of the younger group's dolls. Mr. Smith had seen them using anything (from pepperpots to plastic saucers) in their games, but that very "collection" was always the main there. It was dark, but Mr. Smith recognized which doll it was - the bead one. "Doctor Eight", belonging to the one not in her group's room.

Mr. Smith knew many things. And he also knew that souls can live not only in houses.

"I guess you were trying to get to her?" he asked softly and listened to the Tardis's wooshing. "Are you sure that's a good idea? All right". The next words were addressed to the doll again. "You will get to Grace, but promise that you won't get caught. And just one more thing: while you will be there, use any opportunities".

* * *

Nasty twinging in Grace's right arm made her sleep - not too deep anyway - leave. But that sleep had been better than staring at the white ceiling without any calmness... Grace let out a small whimper with pain and bit her lip not to cry.

Seemingly a moment later - perhaps she blacked out? - the room's darkness was broken, but not with electric light. It was more of some very very very concentrated sunlight - golden and not too bright, fine for the tired eyes.

"Now I know I'm dreaming..." Grace muttered.

"So do I".

The girl almost bounced in her bed, and her arm reminded about itself again.

"Ssshhh... No one knows I'm here".

Grace's vision got used to this light (or it was more of shiny mist), and she realized what - or who - was its source. It was a man of about... how many? It wasn't clear. It was like with Mr. Smith: no one quite knew how old he was at first sight (and in all). But this wasn't the school headmaster. This was a total stranger, and yet there was something horribly familiar in him. Quite tall, dressed like a Victorian gentleman... and with a fully inappropriate hairstyle: it would be more fitting if those messy dark curls drooping over his ears and forehead were let grown a bit longer.

"Don't fear me", the man said, having sat onto the edge of Grace's bed. Now it was clear that his face and hands were emitting this mist-light. "I'm here to help you".

His long fingers traced along Grace's hurt arm and... she didn't know what he did, but the pain was gone. Slowly, as if pulled out by this touch. And what was the most puzzling - Grace wasn't afraid of him. Not even remotely. As if she knew who this was, though she saw him for the first time.

"That's it, I think".

"Who are you?" Grace asked quietly.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me".

"So don't..." the girl muttered, now surrendering to sleep as far as there was no pain to disturb her. "I think... you're my guardian angel..."

* * *

"No way, Eight. Just no way!" Eleven exclaimed.

"But I tell you! I could feel her tension leaving her!" Eight shot out. They were not afraid of being heard, now all the kids were at their classes. "I had to get used for a while that I was so huge..."

"And how was it like when you... emm... changed?" Twelve asked.

Eight bit his bottom lip.

"I don't know, Mr. Smith found me in the corridor..."

"...after you so foolishly left..." Three caught up.

"...said something about opportunities, and then... then I changed. The space around was pressing me, and then I got carried away, and then I was there. Huge and shiny and strange. But Grace wasn't afraid when I appeared. She even called me..."

"What?" One interfered.

"She said something about keeper angels..."

"That means she loves you", Four interrupted. "Soul connection, Eight".

"I hope so".

"Wonder what Mr. Sullivan thought when he found me in Grace's bed in the morning. The human groove stayed for a couple of hours", Eight noticed.

"But still, what was that thing that is able to perform such transformations?" Ten muttered. "Do you think what I think?"

The rest of the dolls nodded. Really, not only they and people had souls here.


	8. Super Vislor!

The best time of investigation activities is night, though it's also the most risky time. But sometimes things are to be found out... At least Vislor Turlough thought so, getting out of his bed. This was one of his mottos. Finding out instead of ignorance.

But as soon as he crept out of the younger group's common room, he stopped and nearly returned back. First of all, he didn't know where to go. Yes, that Grace's "guardian angel" had appeared in sick bay, and before it a ragdoll that looked just like Jamie had been found (and gone) in the Tardis Boarding School's corridor. And the blue book had been found in the library. That was only the beginning.

These are just consequences, Vislor told himself. I need to find the reason. Where haven't I been?.. Library? No. Perhaps the blue book was there, but no more... Classrooms? Everyone had been there a million times. Corridors? As well. Perhaps attic? Or basement?..

"How are you going to get the keys?" the voice in Vislor's head asked him. Wait a minute. The keys... they were to be kept at Headmaster Smith's office. No way. I began it and I will go on, Vislor told himself.

Usually he was not against being all alone, and he couldn't call himself a coward... but here, when it was only darkness surrounding him, even this corridor which he had walked a million times seemed to be the most unknown and the most creepy place. Darkness is wrong, darkness is wrong, darkness is wrong... - the voice in the boy's head was repeating.

Wait a minute.

There were lots of doors here. And none of them was locked, though they were to be locked from the very beginning. And in addition, the patch of corridor when it was crossed with another one was lighted. A tiny bit. And it was a weird kind of light. Neither electric nor moonlight (where would it come from? The night was cloudy, and there were no windows to give it out anyway in that direction). This light had more similarity to candlelight, but it was far brighter - otherwise it wouldn't have reached the wall this far.

Legs numb, Vislor made his way there. The source appeared to be in the basement, the door to which was wide open. Why? Was someone watching him? But he hadn't told anyone about his idea... Too late to run back. Slowly, hardly coping with his worry, Vislor began walking downstairs. "No one was here before, this door was always locked", the voice in his head reminded.

Everything happens for the first time, the boy recalled, ready for anything. But the basement didn't contain any abandoned souls, or chained beasts, or anything that adventure books can offer. Instead, a hexagonal table with a tall glass column in the center was put in the middle of the room. And it was not just a table. Its surface was covered with knobs, buttons, clock faces, gears, screens and colorful lights, and the column was filled with never stopping golden and orange sparkles, like a "magic lamp".

"Wow", Vislor whispered almost soundlessly. But the next event made his stupefied. In all senses.

The side of the table which was closest to him was blown open, and another kind of light filled the space. It was even stranger. So very bright, but Vislor stared into it without even blinking, absorbing as much of it as he could not only with his eyes - it seemed that this light was filling every cell of his body. So mysterious, so cosmic, so uneeeeeaaaaarrrrthlyyyyy...

* * *

"Okay, kids!" Mr. Jackson, the P.E. teacher, shouted, and everyone stood straight. "Today we'll play the almost-real football game!" He examined the children - some excited, some embarrassed, depending on their physical development. "Why almost? Because our teams will have seven members each. Two defenders, two half-defenders, two forwards and a goalie, of course. Leela, you'll be the captain of the first team, Jamie, you'll lead the second".

Leela beamed, while Jamie's face wrinkled, as if he bit on a sour berry. No wonder. Leela was the best of the best when it was about any kind of sports, and if all kids had lots of energy, she had so much that she would explode if she didn't let it out by running, jumping, kicking or anything else. No wonder that she often decided to solve problems with her fists, especially if those problems were caused by the Magisters. Except for Yanek. And Jamie, while being quite fit, didn't enjoy sports as much.

After "the choice ceremony", as it was called, two teams got formed. Leela's team consisted of Jo, Adric, Tegan, Rory, Martha and Jack, while Jamie chose Ace, Vislor, Sarah Jane, Peri, Grace and Rose.

* * *

Mr. Smith was worried. Something was definitely not right. And it had begun not yesterday, but today. But it was only nine in the morning! What could've gone wrong?.. The first point of today's plan was checking the younger group's success in P.E. Last time it had been far from perfect, and they had promised to get better. As it's known, the children tend to keep their word.

Before entering, Mr. Smith peeked in the hole between the gym's door and the wall to find... pandemonium. "Ben's doing his best in organizing them", he thought to himself upon the sight of fourteen kids running around the gym in trials to get the ball. The "outsiders" were Victoria, really offended Johnny Magister, Clara, Susan, Amy and Zoe.

Having caught the moment when the atmosphere ceased a bit, Mr. Smith walked in and approached to Mr. Jackson, who was watching the game with seen delight.

"I see that you found the needed approach", the headmaster noticed. Mr. Jackson nodded.

"At least they don't play dirty..."

"OUT OF THE WAAAAAYYYY!"

Mr. Smith and Mr. Jackson hardly managed to avoid being hit by the ball kicked with such strength that it had bounced off the walls at least three times. Now that was surprising. Who could've performed such a kick?.. But they were surprised even more when they revealed that they could've been smashed with this ball one more time - if it were not for Vislor, who was holding still-rotating ball with both hands.

The game was forgotten immediately.

"And who was that?" Mr. Jackson asked. The children began throwing glances at each other - none of them knew the exact answer. No wonder, in such a hurricane!.. None of them wanted to be accused in the possible attempt to whack their teacher and the headmaster. But it was also about Vislor. He should've been at least pushed away while catching the ball, that was the law of inertia - the children knew, Miss Shaw had already explained the impulse laws to them - but he had caught it when it was really close to the grown-ups and hadn't been pushed away by an inch. And besides - most of the children could swear that it was so - Vislor had been in the opposite side of the gym seconds before it had happened!

"Seems like we have one more vampire here apart from Adric..." Johnny Magister muttered.

* * *

"How can you cope with all those codes, Zoe?!" Victoria complained. The next lesson was computer science, and now it was Zoe's turn to shine. But, to their teacher's delight (he was another Mr. Smith, but he had told the kids to call him just Mickey, because he was the youngest teacher and besides the most open and sociable one), Clara also revealed to have programming abilities, though they were to be developed. Anyway, when it was about entering codes to create pictures and writings, for that was the very beginning, those girls were the best.

"You simply have to talk with computers using their language", Zoe explained. "It's not difficult. Remember, Miss Roman Junior told us about grammar rules? When you use them many times, it becomes an automatic motion".

"Seems like you are not the only one with automatic motions..." Amy muttered, pointing at her red-topped neighbour. Vislor was pushing the keys with insane speed, not tearing his eyes off the screen. At first Zoe thought that it was bluffing, but after a short look she realized that the symbols flashing on the screen exactly matched the instructions given to them. Only when the sequence was over, the ginger-top let out a sigh of relief and leaned on the back of his chair.

"Incredible", Mickey gasped upon having glanced at the screen of Vislor's computer. "You've completed all the tasks in the book in fifteen minutes!"

"HUH?!" The kids turned around in their chairs, staring at Vislor, who looked as if he had been running a marathon - face covered in sweat and heavily breathing. Some moments later he sat straight and stared at Mickey:

"What? I wanted to complete my task, that's all..."

"But you completed all of them", Mickey repeated.

"Did I?" Vislor's funny brows bounced till his hairline.

"Look by yourself".

Vislor looked through the list of symbols and lines flashing on the screen, then turned back to the classroom with sheer astonishment:

"But I don't even know those codes! How could I possibly?.."

And there was the moment when Amy was the first to notice something else.

"Vislor?"

"Hm?"

"Your eyes. Aren't they supposed to be blue?"

"They've always been blue... what?"

Martha was the first to give him a mirror, and he spotted what the matter was. His eyes, usually light blue and with a hint of craziness (his "crazy eyes" expression was priceless, as some of the kids thought), now almost lost their color - they were glowing with golden light, the same with which he had seen... where? He had seen it. But he did not remember. And the very first trial to recall it made his head crack in two, at least he thought so.

Vislor let out a yell of tremendous pain and collapsed under his desk, shaking in hysteria.

* * *

"I've already seen this light", Two said. "It was present when I and Jamie were switched, remember?"

This time the subject of the talk was the strange behaviour of Vislor this night. At first he had been awake till two a.m., then he had gone somewhere, and then... and this "then" was the most puzzling. He had returned, but he had looked as if he had been on fire. Everything not covered with clothing - his hands, face and feet - had been surrounded by golden orange sparkling mist. And Vislor had been exhaling golden clouds in his sleep.

"And I was emitting it when being human", Eight added.

"Do you think Mr. Smith is involved?" Seven asked.

The dolls glanced at each other, not sure. Mr. Smith was a riddle not less than the strange behaviour of the ginger-topped kid. Finally Eleven entered the talk:

"I think I gotta check him out". Before his pals (especially One) could object, he added: "First of all, I'm shorter than most of us, and this means I'm less noticeable. Secondly, I'm not going to get into trouble".

"Trouble will find you", Six pointed out.

"We'll see", Eleven grinned.

* * *

Mathematics lesson passed without any accidents. But things turned serious after Vislor made all the devices in the physics lab turn on without even touching them. And even the ones which didn't work with electricity, like impulse mechanisms and "static brushes", as the kids called them.

It took half of a lesson and the effort of all kids and Miss Shaw to turn everything off. And again Vislor had no idea why this took place. The only fact was that the devices had gone crazy after his short anger attack. And the attack had been caused by his fruitless trial of making up an experimental engine. What to say, those "lab works" were interesting and not easy.

"I told you that I was to build that engine", Adric whispered while collecting the metal parts scattered all around the floor (some of the engines simply flew apart due to too much energy).

"That's enough, Addie, don't take all the advantages", Johnny Magister hissed in return. Envy, all envy, Amy thought.

"I've heard about super-abilities opening in extreme situations, but this..." Susan admitted.

"And those glowing eyes... yow, the horror..." Zoe shivered.

"I've seen such glowing", Grace admitted. "When that man came at night... that angel man, he was glowing with the same sparkles..."

"So what is it? Some angel disease?" Jack asked. "Then we gotta wait till our ginger-top grows wings..."

"Seems like you guessed..."

This final statement was put in by Rose, who was watching something outside. Jo was the next to spot what was the sight: it was about Vislor again. This time he was hanging on the highest branch of the highest chestnut tree in the school garden. But the matter was that there was no possible way of climbing it so fast and so high!..

A moment later Vislor seemingly got tired and... no, he didn't fall from the branch like a rock. Actually, he did fall, but this fall was extremely slow, as if the kid suddenly lost all his weight. And again, a cloud of golden orange sparkles was surrounding him.

But it was not the fall-flight or the previous "climbing" which made the kids run outside - it was the next scene. After some uneven steps Vislor's legs wobbled, and he collapsed into the grass, face down.

* * *

"Why are you all sitting here?" Mr. Smith asked, having spotted Tegan, Martha and Amy waiting next to the sick bay doors.

"It's about Vislor, Mr. Smith", Amy confessed. "He's behaving strange since the morning".

"What do you mean?"

"At first he rescued you from being smashed by that crazy ball", Tegan reminded. "Then he solved all the tasks in the computer science book in fifteen minutes. And then he made all devices work... and fell from the highest tree without even being scratched..."

The final words were pronounced much slower than the ones at the beginning. Maybe it was because Tegan realized that she was blabbing everything out. And she was not the first. Mr. Smith, as all Tardis Boarding School knew, was a kind of man whom everybody trusted. Amy was the next to increase the number of believers:

"There was some strange mist around him and in his eyes too".

"AMY!" Martha elbowed her.

"What? It was there!"

Mr. Smith knitted his thick black brows together. The girls, especially Tegan, expected that such news would make him either laugh or say "don't invent things", as grown-ups usually tell children, but this reaction was a total surprise for them. He took that seriously.

* * *

Being small is a perk when you don't want to be noticed, Eleven thought. But it's a con when you have to cover distance... All in all, he wasn't going to stop after having defeated half of the way. Judging by the talks heard from above (Eleven was making his way, hiding behind the doors and wardrobes in the corridor), Vislor was in sick bay. Thank goodness it wasn't far from the younger group's common room.

After the half-acrobatic sequence of climbing up the closest wardrobe Eleven sneaked into the ventilation shaft and crawled the last patch of way as fast as he could, but the final jump wasn't as smooth - he landed onto the closest cupboard with quite a rumble. Luckily the "landing place" was high enough, so he wasn't noticed.

"Wish I was made of rags and cotton... I will never tease Two for his raggedi-ness again", Eleven muttered and, trying to stay unnoticeable, glanced down from the cupboard. "Raggedy man... no way".

He was right. Vislor was here, and it seemed that he was having a nightmare again: he was sleeping, but this sleep was restless. Every moment he was tossing and turning and twisting, letting out small groans together with clouds of golden orange sparkles from time to time. Oh yes, he was the champion when it was about nightmares, but this was something more.

"We all gotta come here and get rid of it..." Eleven muttered, but just when he was about to leave, the door opened, and Mr. Smith walked in. If even he's here, that means seriousness... The headmaster sat on the edge of Vislor's bed and made him freeze with some curious movement - at first sight it was just gentle caressing the kid's temples, but in reality this was something much more.

"All right, Vislor. Now I'll ask you some questions, and you will answer. I know you will not tell lies", Mr. Smith said in a low voice, while his hands moved onto the boy's high cheekbones. "What happened the previous night?"

"I was running an investigation", Vislor muttered.

"Which investigation?"

"To find out the reason of everything strange".

"What was so strange?"

"The glowing man came to Grace. Adric got out of the car crash without even a scratch. There were pictures appearing in the blue book..." Vislor shook a bit. "A doll looking just like Jamie, and he was gone for a while..."

"Enough. I understood. No secrets can be kept forever, and I know that all of you kids know that Tardis has her own secret. The school has soul. I mean it. But I will tell you no more about her... And tonight she decided to satisfy your curiosity, having given you part of her soul. And now you know what it can do. Do you understand why none of you kids should tell anyone about this?"

"Yes".

"Now you will return the patch of Tardis's soul to her proper place. Its power is so tremendous... it's a miracle that you stayed alive for so long".

"I could die?"

"You could've been torn to pieces, but you will be all right. You were just not prepared. No one is prepared to gain, as you call them, super powers".

Mr. Smith leaned over Vislor and pressed his lips to the boy's forehead. And it was not just a kiss. Eleven could see that a stream of golden orange sparkling mist glittered at the place of "contact" for a while. Then Vislor exhaled, relaxed, and Mr. Smith did the same, but after this the whole room filled with the same mist for a mere second. And Eleven could swear that he could hear the sound of laughter before it was gone.

"Now sleep", Mr. Smith finished, standing up. "And I'm going to need a bit of it too".

* * *

All kids shrunk in their places for a while when Vislor returned to the common room in the evening. Zoe was the first to get the point:

"You're fine! Your eyes are not glowing anymore!"

"Girls! You always notice appearance things first!" Vislor snorted, but still looked in the mirror to check it. She was right. Normal blue eyes without any unearthly glow.

"Hey VT, touch the sky!" That was Johnny Magister. That kid would prank everyone and everything...

"Just say no fun, JM!" Vislor parried. "Hey, wait. JM... Jim Moriarty!"

Johnny wanted to reply in the same way, but found searching for the anti-hero with VT initials too long and difficult, therefore decided to go on in a different way:

"Does that mean that soon we'll get the new superhero? Super Vislor!"

"I'm sure the scarlet cape will fit me", Vislor grinned and flopped onto his bed, having grabbed The Legends of Ancient Greece along the way.

"If he ever lets the patch of that soul inside", Eleven whispered under the bed. He had already returned and told his pals what he had seen. "But I doubt that".


	9. 21 Guns

For a week or two the younger group of Tardis Boarding School was waiting for a huge argument or anything else, because the number of its members finally got right. Twenty-one. And the one who made it all complete was Harold Magister, the twin brother of Johnny Magister, who had finally returned from the hospital. Some of the older students, especially John Benton, Mike Yates and River Song, had a suspicion that he had spent a little bit more time there not only because of pneumonia. All the children of the Magister family had their own, softly saying, specialities, mostly haughtiness. Naturally, with two Magisters instead of one in group they were to expect a disastrous amount of trouble.  
But, surprisingly, nothing wrong happened in a couple of weeks. And when it finally took place, it didn't involve either Johnny or Harold... though two Magisters were still the reasons, and it was of about seven on Not Good Things scale, with being late for classes taken for one and the great lock-in being ten. Not an all-ruining catastrophe, but potentially coming to it. In local measures.

* * *

"...of our family had ever done it!"

After this sentence ending, which was heard through all the corridors, Adric dropped a pile of books, Zoe squinted, Jo jammed her ears with her fingers, Tegan turned around so quickly that her pilot-style cap fell off her head, Johnny and Harold jumped up, Rory fell off his chair, Susan's papers flew all over the room and Jack wobbled on the table - he had climbed there to reach the upper bookshelf containing several albums. Being so small when separated, at once these actions had quite an effect, especially in combination with the rest's widened eyes.

"Sounds like Tony Magister", Peri mumbled.

"And sounds like he's not amused", Amy added.

Johnny and Harold wrinkled, as if they swallowed two lemons. Frankly, they were quite a sight when being together like this. Despite their being identical twins, due to some natural phenomenon their hair was of different colors. Johnny was a tow-top, while Harold's buzz-cut was dark. And their clothing tastes were not the same: Johnny preferred casual clothes, mostly well-worn, and Harold was a sample of little businessman, if not anything worse.

However, the sight involving two other Magisters in the hall was not as spectacular in good sense: Tony was holding Yanek pressed to the wall by his throat, not letting the younger one's feet touch the floor.

"Hey, let him go!" Leela was the first to rush into the corridor to try and end this abuse. Jamie was next, and then it wasn't clear who was the next and who was the last: all younger group (including Johnny and Harold) hurried to help Yanek, but the real reason of this scene's end wasn't any of them.

"What is going on around here?"

Tony released Yanek's throat (the poor lad's face was already of bluish purple shade) and twirled around to look vice-headmaster Lethbridge-Stuart in the face. For heaven's sake, Tony could be called the cheekiest of all the Magisters, and this was the proof - despite the older one's presence, he turned back to poor Yanek and hissed:

"They are the so-called chosen ones, you nutty professor! And you... you're making friends with a foe, do you even get it?!"

"Enough, Anthony. Come with me", Brigadier ordered, and Tony obeyed, though he was making faces at the vice-headmaster along the way behind his back.

In ten minutes Yanek, who has quite quickly recovered from Tony's choke grasp, was sitting in the younger group's room, almost ready to tell them the reason of his older brother's fury. While he was massaging his throat to get his voice back to normal, the kids began introducing their own versions.

"Maybe Tony wanted to get me and got Yanek. Remember, they are still angry at me for that car crash", Adric supposed.

"It was some weeks ago, and it wasn't you who was driving", Johnny objected. "Tony's my brother, and I know his habits better. I think Roger didn't let him do something, and he decided to release his rage, using Yanek as a target".

This sounded better. First, Roger Magister, the oldest brother, was the doubtless leader of them, but Tony sometimes attempted to push him off his position. Second, Yanek wasn't a good runner to escape on time - stocky and not too fit, though not fat at all, he could easily become a victim.

"Wrong", Yanek hissed, coughing. "That's not the sense".

"Then what is, Professor Yanek?" Martha asked. This nickname was firmly stuck to him if it was about the younger group - they felt uneasy when it was about calling him by his name, and his knowledge in everything and ability to give fine help finished this.

"It's about Skaro Academy", Yanek replied.

"Skaro Academy?" Clara parroted.

"I've heard about it", Rory informed. "They say, they use dictatorship there..."

"Don't confuse the words, Rory", Yanek coughed. "Tony nearly choked me for helping one of their students. Whatever they say, each coin has two sides, and here it's not the exception".

"Tell more, please", Victoria asked.

"Skaro Academy is more like a family home-educational school than like ours", Yanek began. "Only the representatives of two worldwide families are accepted there. The Kaleds and the Thalians. And the main idea is that there are special families which have the potential of... what to say, ruling the world. This is why the kids there are trained to be kings of the planet".

The kids gazed at each other, the sense of these words hardly establishing in their heads.

"Yeah, sounds wild. You grew in the atmosphere of friendship, and it made you different, while those are all trained to be the same", Yanek continued. "But that's the point, really. The Kaleds gladly accept their being the same and are proud of it, while the Thalians prefer staying themselves".

"But why were those very families chosen?" Jamie asked.

"Ask Headmaster Davros", Yanek replied. "Vaber, one of the Thalians, asked me to help him with his studying".

"You can never resist anyone asking you for help, bro", Harold commented.

"I assume you know the rest".

* * *

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jo whispered, her throat tightening. She, Adric and Zoe were at the library, but they had come here not to get books. They had decided to use the library computer to find out the way to this Skaro Academy, because no one from the older students - Yanek as well - knew where it was. Yanek had stated that he had met with that Vaber at the town's library, but nothing more.

Right now Jo was watching out for Miss Noble not to appear, while Adric and Zoe were busy cracking the passwords and codes. Yes, the school computers were blocked for the students not to use them for private purposes, but right now it was a special occasion. Or it wasn't?..

"Gotcha!" Adric informed. "Now for the search..."

"I still can't get it how you decipher those codes and everything", Jo admitted.

"As I said, you gotta talk to computers in their language", Zoe stated. "It's no use if you know everything from A to Z blindly, you gotta find common language..."

"In your case it's really A to Z", Jo mentioned, having made both hold their snorting with laughter.

But her duties weren't finished after those two found the way to the Skaro Academy. That was only the beginning.

* * *

"It's a school, not a top secret base", Susan was repeating from time to time while she, Jo and Jack were making their way according to the map found by Adric and Zoe. There were reasons to be surprised. Tardis Boarding School could be found on any Internet map, while Skaro Academy couldn't. Yes, two young computer masterminds had hacked the map eventually, but they had had more trouble making it all like it had been before... All in all, it would be dumb to go back.

Right now the trio was in front of a seemingly abandoned building of deep rick-red color with a hint of bronze shade. Nothing could tell that it was a school from first sight. There were no signs or anything around.

"No wonder that nobody knows where it is", Jo assumed.

"Stop, girls!" Jack suddenly ordered before they could come from their hiding place - the remains of half-ruined fence. The girls followed his pointing finger with their looks and understood what he was talking about: the building's doors and windows appeared to have unusual decorative elements. More specifically - cameras.

"Is it some military base? The sign 'Keep out' is the only thing missing", Susan snapped.

"Remind me to steal one from Brig's office, he has plenty", Jack replied.

"How do you know?" Jo asked.

"I get punished quite often", Jack smirked and pulled a tiny plastic gun from his pocket. "And not for nothing. Wait here, girls".

Before Susan or Jo could have said anything, the boy ran out of their shelter and around the building, clicking with his gun along the way. When his "routine" was over, he grabbed both girls by their wrists and pulled to the other side of the entrance doors.

"What was that, Jack?" Susan whispered.

"They gotta wash their cameras now". Jack blew the imaginary puff of smoke off his gun's tip. "One-sided paint-ball, ladies!"

"But where did you learn to shoot this way?" Jo wondered.

"Say thanks to River and her SHOCK of curlies", Jack replied. "She challenged me to shoot the paint bullets through them without touching them. Every time I spoilt her hairstyle she spoilt my clothing. From top to bottom, but with smaller paint bullets".

The trio turned around to make sure no one was there to catch them. From the inside this place was more of an ordinary school than from the outside. The same corridors, announcement boards, lockers... but still there was something pressing here. The girls could feel it better - at first they nearly surrendered, but collected themselves and did not escape away for good.

"Jack, are you sure no one saw us?" Jo asked.

"If there's guarding from the outside, as a rule, there's no watch inside. Hah!" Jack replied. "Otherwise there would be a huge amount of hau-hau and bee-do-bee-do. C'mon, let's watch them for a while".

All three peeked in the glass window on the nearest classroom door. An ordinary sight - a lesson going on - was inside... but that was only the first impression. There were two separated groups of students, and the "party-crashers" shivered upon the sight of the group occupying the desk row farther from them. It consisted only out of boys, and they all kept an expression of seriousness and preparation to punish any interferer cold-bloodedly. The second half contained girls as well, and their expressions were of wider range. Concentration, boredom, seriousness, but not a hint of smile or any other positive sparkle. Besides, all the representatives of the second half were blond.

"Hem-hem!"

Susan, Jo and Jack felt their hearts shrunk - this sounded from behind their backs. Thank goodness, it wasn't a grown-up - it was a tow-topped boy in the same bronze-colored uniform with beige accents as the rest of the class. But who knew what was worse - to be caught by a teacher or by a student?..

"Whom do we have here?" The boy's dark brown eyes narrowed. "Three wanderers?"

Susan was the first to collect herself:

"You know the Magisters?"

"What Magisters?"

"Yanek Magister told me he helped one of you and was punished for this!" Susan blabbed out without taking a breath.

"Ah, yes, you're the Tardisers!" the boy almost yelped. "Yanek was punished?!"

"It's not what you thought!" Jo put in.

All four bit their bottom lips upon the sound of steps approaching to them from the closest classroom. The blond boy was the first to recover: he darted to the row of lockers and opened one of them.

"Get in, now!"

"Are you crazy?!" Jack exclaimed.

"Come on, or Kaan's gonna make a scarecrow out of you!"

In a moment the locker's door was slammed shut.

"Nice lockers they have", Jack noticed. Despite the outside tiny size of the container, all three fitted there, and some place for the fourth was left as well.

"Shhh!" Susan hushed at him and raised herself on her toe-tips to see what was going on outside. Now the blond boy was patiently answering the questions of the teacher who had come out of the classroom.

"What was the noise? Explain, Latep!"

"There was none. Here, I've brought the equipment". The boy shook his huge backpack (noticed only now) off his back, having received the suspicious look as a reward.

"Brig's a fluffy cat compared to him", Jack murmured.

Much later, when the steps in the corridor were over (there was surprisingly little speaking, as if it was restricted), the locker's door creaked.

"Let's go, quickly! The Daleks are away, come along!" the locker's owner whispered.

* * *

"I thought they would be... bluer".

"They don't look like mean ones at all".

"You thought it was true?"

Those were the first phrases which Susan, Jo and Jack heard upon having been leaved into the common room. What to say, it was much less comfortable than theirs. There were no posters or drawings on the walls, and all children were still dressed in their uniform. In all, this place had even heavier military spirit than the previous places.

"Meet the Thalians", their saviour proclaimed. "My sisters and brothers and cousins and... no matter. All the members of one clan".

"So those are your Tardisers, Latep?" the boy sitting closest to them wondered.

"'Those' have names, you know", Jack snapped. "I'm Jack, these are Susan and Jo".

"Vaber", the closest kid introduced himself. "Your Yanek Magister helped me a great deal".

"Did you come here because of him?" the girl with a huge book wondered. "Latep told us it was something about him".

"No, no, we just... we just got curious", Susan confessed. "Silly us".

"But still, what happened?" the girl asked. "I'm Rebec, by the way".

"All right, Yanek was beaten for his helping you". Jo was the first to decide and tell this.

The blond kids frowned at once.

"I knew those Daleks would make us the worst reputation!" The tallest boy in the group hit his palm with his fist.

"Daleks?" Susan, Jo and Jack parroted.

"Taron thought it sounds funnier than Kaleds", Latep explained. "Their family is sure that anyone who doesn't belong to Kaled family is a freak, if not worse... Hold on! How did you sneak here?"

Jack showed his paint ball gun, having made several kids chuckle evil-like and one of them admit an obvious secret wish:

"Always dreamed to do this..."

"Anyway, why are there so many cameras?" Jo asked.

"The teachers and the headmaster wear pendants which are connected to the cameras, so they can see any patch of the academy whenever they want". Taron, the tallest boy, tossed a round palm-sized pendant to Jack. "This one's broken".

"But why is there such control?" Susan put in.

"Not to let us out", Rebec replied. "As for me, every grown-up here fears that we Thalians are going to run. The Kaleds would gladly obey any order, but we are considered to be rebellious..."

"Danger!" the boy closest to the door whispered. "I hear someone coming!"

Susan, Jo and Jack squeezed under the closest beds just in time.

* * *

"If you tell anyone, just anyone what took place..."

Now it was Yanek's turn to give orders. Alas, not to Tony, but to Johnny and Harold.

"No worries, Professor", both replied. Yanek gave them one last glare and walked out of the younger group's room, the inhabitants of which were circling the border-breakers - all three were pale, and Jack was pretending to be brave, while the girls' lips trembled. What to say, getting out had been much more difficult than getting in... thank goodness that two Thalians, Marat and Codal, had agreed to get them out. Once or twice they had nearly been caught, but not more. And, as Jack had stupidly used all his paint bullets for the entrance, they had had to take longer way, but free from cameras.

"I will NEVER set my foot to Skaro Academy again..." Jo stated.

"Me too, but those Thalians are quite nice guys", Susan asses.

"There are ones in every family, and they have huge lockers", Jack finished. "Hmm... Kaleds, Daleks... I like the second version more".

"Something's telling me that we will meet them soon", Johnny noticed. "But not in their or our school... no matter".

* * *

Twelve removed his cloth-and-wire hand off Jo's forehead and slid down onto the floor.

"What was there?" Three asked. He was the best in reading dreams which were the consequences of all kinds of fiction, but he wasn't as good at reading memories.

"The same that they told us. Just as I imagined", Twelve answered. "But I thought some of those Thalians thought our kids to be spies".

"No way!" Ten's head popped from under Martha's blanket.

"They did. And there also was a song at the background", Twelve continued and tried to hum its tune, but his musical abilities didn't appear to be strong, so Nine and Eight, who were the musical experts of the group (though Nine preferred up-to-date music, while Eight enjoyed classical), climbed onto Jo's bed. Nine was quicker to recognize the song playing in her head:

"I know this one. 21 Guns by Green Day. Wonder only why?.."

"I think I know", One entered the talk - he had been reading Susan's dreams all the while. "Those Thalians live in eternal anxiety. They are supposed to be the 'lower' ones, in the Kaleds' opinion, so they are suspicious. There are twenty-one kids here now. Twenty-one guns which are going to shoot, but no one knows when".

Nine, Eight and Twelve raised their brows at once.

"Have you ever heard of a saying 'if there's a gun on the wall in the first part of the play, it'll shoot in the third part'?" One asked, getting impatient. "Thalians think too much, this is it!"

"How do you know?" Ten asked.

"I've been in Susan's bag all the while", One parried. "But there's still hope. 21 Guns is the song about peace".


End file.
